


Under the Mistletoe

by cassiewrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 14:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiewrites/pseuds/cassiewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Steve and Bucky find themselves under the mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!! Happy New Year!! I just wanted to write some cute fluff for the holidays so I hope you enjoy <3

_1925_

 

 

Steve watches as Bucky chases girls around the playground with a sprig of green leaves in his hand. They’re running away from him for some reason, their pigtails bouncing along with their skirts.

They’ve been playing this game for twenty minutes and Steve still doesn’t quite understand the point of it. What’s wrong with the leaves? Is it poison ivy? Surely Bucky wouldn’t be holding it with his bare hands if it was. Maybe there’s a bug on it, Steve thinks, but it probably would’ve fallen off by now.

The girls scream and giggle as Bucky chases them in circles. It must be harmless because their teacher hasn’t moved from her spot near the fence where she’s been smoking a cigarette. There might even be a small smirk on her face.

Steve continues kicking his legs back and forth on the bench where he sits, occasionally looking down at his sketchbook to draw, but most of his focus is on Bucky’s silly little game.

Bucky runs over a few minutes later and sits next to Steve, breathing hard. He wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulders and peers down at his sketchbook. Usually Steve hates when people do that, but Bucky’s seen all his drawings a thousand times now.

“What’re you playing, Buck?” Steve asks, head tilted.

“Whatta you mean?” Bucky replies, still sucking in deep breaths.

Steve points to the sprig of leaves in his hand. He can see now that there are a few little white berries attached to it.

“This? It’s mistletoe, Stevie. Ain’t you never seen mistletoe?” Bucky asks, exposing the missing tooth in his wide smile. He lost it last week; he had his fun messing with the girls yet again by showing off his bloody grin when it finally popped out.

Steve shakes his head. “Why do the girls keep running from it?”

Bucky sighs dramatically. “How come everyone thinks you’re so smart, huh? I gotta teach you everything.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Come on, Buck...”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky says, then he taps on Steve’s sketchbook and adds, “You might wanna take notes.”

Steve swats his hand away as Bucky continues, “It’s simple, really. If you get a girl under some mistletoe, then she has to kiss you. It’s a law, I think.”

“What if she don’t wanna kiss you?” Steve asks. His eyes look like two wine glasses filled with blue Kool-Aid, too big for his small build. He doesn’t make a bad first impression with those puppy-dog peepers, though.

“Why d’you think all the girls keep runnin’ away?” There’s a touch of wickedness in Bucky’s smile, but it’s all in good fun.

“You can’t blame ‘em. Who’d wanna kiss you anyway?” Steve teases.

Bucky seems to take this as a challenge. He hangs the mistletoe over Steve’s head and starts to make smoochy noises while he pouts his lips like a fish. Before Steve can react by shielding his face with his sketchbook, Bucky plants a wet kiss on his cheek.

“ _Yuck!_ ” Steve says, laughing as he scrubs at his face with his jacket sleeves.

“Merry Christmas, Stevie!” Bucky snickers, then ruffles up Steve’s hair and runs back to the playground.

Steve shakes his head as he watches Bucky race away, continuing on with his annoying antics. Even so, Steve feels his cheeks get a bit warmer, but he probably doesn’t look anymore flushed than he was before. He’s just frostbitten, is all.

Eventually, the teacher crushes her cigarette out under her heel and takes the mistletoe away from Bucky, but not before he lands his smooches on a couple more girls. They all try to wash off the cooties Bucky gave them after recess, making a big deal out of it as they do. Bucky just laughs and blows more kisses as he takes his seat next to Steve in class.

As big of a punk as he is, there’s still no one Steve would rather be best friends with than Bucky Barnes.

 

-

 

 

_1943_

 

 

“ _Noël! Noël! Voici le Rédempteur!_ ” Dernier sings drunkenly, traipsing around the bar with some flouncy dame. Her curls are falling out from all the dips and turns Dernier pulls while they’re dancing. Steve thinks he’s gonna need some earplugs if that girl shrieks with laughter any louder.

Everybody is laughing and drinking and having fun, singing along with Christmas songs on the record player. Steve wishes he could join in their holiday cheer, let down his hair so to speak, but he can’t use whiskey to drown away all his worries like they can. Damn this super soldier tolerance of his.

He drinks anyway, just to warm him up a bit, but he’s still on edge from invading that HYDRA facility a few days ago. Bucky comes stumbling over to his place at the bar and slaps a hand on Steve’s back.

“Cheer up, Stevie! It’s Christmas, for Christ’s sake!” Bucky says, then laughs at his own unintentional pun.

Steve is about to reply when he gets a whiff of Bucky’s breath. “God, Buck, you reek. What the hell have you been drinking?”

Bucky takes a seat next to him and looks deep in thought for a moment. “Well, we had some wine--really good wine, did you know the French make good wine?--then we drank all the wine, then Dum Dum found some moonshine. Fuckin’ blueberry moonshine, can you believe it?”

“Moonshine?” Steve chuckles. “You got a death wish?”

Bucky grabs at Steve’s shoulder. He gets like this when he’s drunk, all handsy and happy. “It sure felt like I was dying when it went down. Yikes...” He makes a face, scrunching up his nose.

Steve shakes his head slightly. “Blueberry, huh?”

“Yep. Blueberry. Bluuueberry,” he pouts his lips as he draws out the word. He looks up at Steve. “Like your eyes, Stevie. Two big blueberries.”

“Uh, sure, Buck,” Steve smiles curiously. “Why don’t we get you a cup of coffee...”

Dum Dum and Morita comes stumbling over toward them, then straighten up to greet Steve. They both salute to him.

“Captain,” Dum Dum says, feigning seriousness. They both burst into laughter a moment later.

Steve turns around in his stool to salute back to them with a smirk on his face. “I take it you fellas are having a good time.”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Morita chimes in. “It’s _Christmas._ Don’t you feel the Christmas spirit, Cap?”

“I think you two drank all the Christmas spirits,” Steve retorts. Bucky has gotten up by now and he’s waltzing around the room with an invisible partner. He circles back around to Steve, still humming along with the music, and pulls Steve out of his chair. He’s surprisingly strong, considering how heavy Steve is now.

“Bucky-” Steve protests, but Bucky continues singing louder.

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas...with every Christmas card I write...” Bucky croons, attempting and failing to spin Steve around the dance floor.

Dum Dum throws something across the room to Falsworth, then Falsworth looks back at him with a shameless smile. The next thing Steve knows, there’s a sprig of mistletoe hanging between his and Bucky’s faces.

Steve doesn’t have time to protest again by the time Bucky realizes what’s going on.

He takes Steve’s face in both hands and presses his lips right into Steve’s, making an exaggerated _mwah_ sound. He lingers for a second too long, Steve thinks, or maybe it’s just his imagination.

He forgets how to breathe in that moment afterward, but he still has enough oxygen in his brain to notice the soft expression on Bucky’s face.

The moment is lost, however, when everyone roars with laughter and they’re both surrounded by rowdy Howling Commandos making kissing noises at them and falling into each other like tipsy bowling pins. Steve tries to laugh with them, but eventually manages to escape the hoard unnoticed. He goes back to his secluded seat at the bar and tries to get himself together.

He doesn’t look back at Bucky because he knows it didn’t mean anything.

Bucky is drunk off his ass, he won’t even remember this tomorrow. But Steve will. Seriously, damn this super soldier tolerance.

He wants to forget it about it and play it off like it never happened, but some part of him knows he’ll never let himself forget. How could he forget the feeling of Bucky’s rough hands on his cheeks, the artificial blueberry taste on his lips...

Steve rakes his hands through his hair and orders another shot of whiskey. Christ, he orders a whole tray of shots. Not that it matters, anyway.

The commandos continue their howling, singing out the rest of “White Christmas.”

 

_May your days be merry and bright,_

_And may all your Christmases be white._

 

_-_

 

 

_2014_

 

 

After ten minutes of searching around just the rooftop of Stark tower--searching the whole tower would take hours, days probably--Steve finally finds Bucky leaning against the railing, looking down at the city. Bucky likes to come up here sometimes, though Steve doesn’t know why.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, trying not to startle him.

Bucky looks back quickly, then gives Steve a small smile. “Hey.”

Steve stands next to Bucky and follows his gaze. The city is blinding, even brighter than usual. Even from the height that they’re at, Steve can see the crowds of people moving like ants below them. They’re all swarming toward Times Square, presumably, which is a few blocks away. From a certain angle, Steve can almost see the famous New Year’s ball shining in the Square.

He feels like he’s only just gotten used to 2014, and now 2015 is only minutes away. God, how must Bucky feel about it? He started getting his memories back in May, but he’s only been acting more like himself for the last few months.

Maybe Steve would know how he felt if Bucky would actually talk to him sometime. Sure, they talk, they chat, but it’s not the same. It’s not about anything important.

“You know, there’s kind of a party happening downstairs,” Steve tells him.

“Really? I couldn’t tell by the zeppelins flying around with Stark’s face on it.” Bucky replies sarcastically. There’s that punk that Steve knows and loves. (Love, in a friendly sense, or at least that’s what Steve has to tell himself.)

“Yeah, I don’t think _subtle_ is in Tony’s vocabulary,” Steve smirks. They’re quiet for a moment, then he continues, “Do you wanna leave?”

Bucky shrugs. “No, I’m fine, I just...wanted to be alone.”

“Oh,” Steve says, backing away a bit. “I can take a hint.”

“No, Steve,” Bucky grabs his wrist lightly, stopping him. “You don’t count.”

He releases his robotic grip on Steve’s hand, then crosses his own arms. “You know what I mean.”

Steve nods, stepping closer to Bucky. “I know. You don’t count either.”

Bucky smirks, looking down again. He rests his hands back down on the railing. Another change in Bucky, he wears a lot of hoodies now. He says they’re just comfortable, but Steve has seen the way Bucky looks at his metal arm. With shame, disgust almost. He dreads ever taking off his shirt, which is a goddamn shame because from the short glimpses Steve has seen, he’s got a body that no one should be ashamed of.

Tonight, for a special occasion, he wears a suit and tie, almost matching Steve’s. He’s not wearing the glove that he usually does over his left hand. Without realizing, Steve finds himself running his own fingers over the ridges in Bucky’s hand. Bucky’s hand quickly retreats back into his pocket.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters.

Bucky shrugs again.

There’s a clang behind them and they both turn to see Clint stumbling up the stairs. He’s looking worse for wear, sporting a black eye and a wrist-brace from his most recent run in with some less-than-lawful pals. Or maybe that was from the nondenominational holiday party when he implied that he could beat Natasha in a fight and she swiftly proved him wrong. He told everyone that he wasn’t even trying, that he’d never hit a girl, but he was clearly trying pretty hard.

“Ball drops in five minutes!” Clint shouts.

“Okay, thanks,” Steve calls back.

Clint salutes to him and tries to smoothly slide back down the railing, but he ends up falling backwards on his ass and calling a few seconds later, “I’m okay!”

Steve can’t help but laugh. “Sometimes I can’t believe that a government agency puts so much trust in that guy...”

Bucky nods along, but replies, “He’s a good guy, though.”

“Yeah. He’s been teaching you archery, right?”

“He’s been trying...” Bucky huffs a laugh. “I shot an arrow through his couch. We weren’t even inside.”

Steve chuckles along with him. “I’m glad you’re getting settled here.”

“Me too,” Bucky confides. He pauses. “Thank you...for everything. You’ve helped me a lot this year.”

“You’ve helped me too, you know. You came back, just in time,” Steve tells him. He licks his lips as he feels the chilly air blow past his face.

Bucky is still sporting long locks, though slightly trimmed. A gust of wind blows some strands into his face, which he pushes back instinctively. Steve actually got him a headband for Christmas a joke, but it looks like he could really use it.

“Do you remember the last New Year’s Eve we spent together?” Steve asks. Bucky thinks for a moment, but Steve just continues telling the story. “1944. Somewhere in Europe, Austria maybe. Falsworth got drunk, truly a masterpiece of inebriation, and-”

“-and almost burned down the whole camp with those cheap fireworks he bought! Oh man, how could I forget...” Bucky looks like he’s genuinely smiling, not just the fake ones he shows for everyone else. And, yes, Steve can tell the difference.

“I miss those guys,” Bucky continues. He looks lost in nostalgia for a moment, but not sad. Who could ever associate a sad memory with those goofs?

They both know when the ball starts to drop. Even if they couldn’t hear the party downstairs counting down from ten, they could still hear the crowd at Times Square chanting it.

_Ten. Nine. Eight._

“We should probably go back downstairs...” Bucky says.

_Seven. Six._

Steve meets his gaze. “Not yet.”

_Five. Four._

Bucky’s tongue darts out over his lips, only for a second.

_Three._

The glittering city lights reflect off Bucky’s eyes.

_Two._

Steve brings his hand up to brush against Bucky’s cheek.

_One._

Steve leans in, Bucky following through the rest of the way, until their lips touch. Their noses bump a little and their lips are kind of chapped, but, God, Steve feels like he’s been waiting two lifetimes for this.

Bucky presses forward, wrapping both arms around Steve’s waist, pulling him closer. It’s forty degrees but Steve doesn’t think he’s ever felt hotter in his whole life. His face feels like it’s on fire, no doubt he’s blushing embarrassingly hard right now.

When they finally break away moments later, Steve leans his forehead against Bucky’s and says, “Happy New Year, Buck.”

Bucky returns the sentiment, grinning against Steve’s mouth. “Happy New Year, Stevie.”

They kiss once more, before Bucky makes a noise and pulls something out of his pocket. Steve chokes a laugh when he sees what’s in Bucky’s hand.

A single sprig of mistletoe.

Bucky holds it between their faces and raises an eyebrow. “Bring back any old memories?”

Steve looks at him with an expression of amusement and disbelief. “You remember that?”

“Why do you think I pulled you out of the Potomac?”

Steve tugs him into another kiss by his lapels. “So you planned this? Or do you just carry mistletoe with you all the time...”

Bucky shrugs. “A wise man once said, I think, that if you get someone under the mistletoe, they’ve gotta kiss you.”

“Right, I think that’s a law,” Steve agrees. He smiles and melts into Bucky’s embrace, like he’s wanted to for seven decades. So, it’s about eight decades overdue.

They barely notice the fireworks going on outside, too busy focusing on the fireworks going on internally. First it felt like butterflies in his stomach, but now Steve is pretty sure that all of those butterflies are exploding. But less gruesome than that...

Of course, if they had noticed the fireworks, they probably would’ve anticipated the crowd heading up to the roof. Which they didn’t.

Someone cheering and another person shouting “Finally!” breaks them out of their spell.

“Maybe if we ignore them they’ll go away,” Bucky mumbles.

Steve scoffs. “Hello, have you ever met any of the Avengers?”

“Right...” Bucky says, then turns his head slowly with Steve toward the partygoers.

All of the Avengers and their plus ones are smiling at them, even Fury has a hint of a smirk. Steve and Bucky untangle from each other’s grasps quickly. If Steve thought he was blushing before, he’s definitely beet red by now.

Natasha gives them a little wave. “Hi, boys. Having a good time?”

Steve scans through the group and stops when he sees Clint, grinning so wide he looks like he’s about to cry.

“I’m just s’happy for y’guys,” Clint slurs, pulling them both into a hug.

Steve and Bucky glance at each other and burst out laughing, breaking the tension, and soon everyone is roaring with laughter. Natasha has to pull Clint away from the edge of the building because he can barely stand up.

Tony comes over carrying a bottle of champagne in each hand, clearly a bit tipsy like everyone else, other than Thor and the super soldiers. He hooks his arm around Steve’s neck and says, “It’s a Christmas miracle!”

“It’s New Year’s, Tony,” Steve tells him, rolling his eyes.

Tony opens his mouth to say something, then closes it and nods his head slowly. “Never too late for Christmas miracles, Cap.”

Pepper rubs a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Okay, alright, how about we go use that espresso machine you bought yourself for Christmas?”

She leads him away and leaves Steve and Bucky alone. Everyone is mostly preoccupied with the fireworks now or their own love life to pay much attention to Steve and Bucky.

Okay, this was kind of an embarrassing situation, but there’s no one Steve would rather ring in the new year with than his best friends, and they all happen to be here now. Sam is doubled over laughing with Clint and Natasha by the rooftop pool, Thor is trying to be gentlemanly by giving Jane his coat, but it completely envelops her. Even Fury and Hill look like they’re having a good time.

Steve turns his attention back to Bucky, letting his arm wander and settle on Bucky’s waist.

Bucky gives him a tired smile and leans in closer, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve places a soft kiss into his hair and asks, almost a whisper, “Got any New Year’s resolutions?”

Bucky angles his head and presses his lips into the side of Steve’s mouth. “Hopefully more of this.”

Steve grazes his hand across Bucky next and breathes, “I think we can arrange that.” He smiles into Bucky’s kiss, feeling happier than he has in seventy years.

Fireworks continue to explode in the sky for the next few minutes, making a spectacular display, but for Steve and Bucky, the fireworks never stop.

 


End file.
